


What's the The Queen of Hearts to Do

by My_Dear_Watson



Series: I Bet My Life [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Game Spoilers, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:05:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Dear_Watson/pseuds/My_Dear_Watson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They both need her, but don't care much for each other. She needs both of them. In a world that's gone to Hell and back, the three of them try to make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Piano Man

It had only been a couple of days since Danse had found out the truth about... himself, but it had felt like weeks- years, even. Going to Listening Station Bravo was a mistake, but he needed to figure out what to do. He knew that he should probably just put a gun to his head and end it all. It was the right thing to do. But he had thought he had been human for years and his human feelings still remained and made him think he needed to sort things out and get some form of... acceptance going. Or skip over acceptance and go straight to ending things as quickly as cleanly as he could.

Then again, there was Rebecca. He knew she would never approve of that option. She had saved his life twice over now, so going against that debt would do more harm than good on multiple levels.

A day ago, she had come looking for him. Part of him knew she would, even if he hadn't wanted her to. That was Rebecca for you: giant heart, acting on impulse was the last thing that should be done, be kind for as long as you could, even in this hell- of course she wouldn't let him off himself. She had found him and explained that she had learned of his synth issue and needed him back with her in Sanctuary for no other reason than just caring and wanting his company. He had scolded her first, insisting that it was her job as a member of the Brotherhood to kill him. He had gotten slapped across the face for his trouble, then lectured (more like shouted at him) about how he was wrong and she had had it with the Brotherhood's ill-advised ideas and she had joined to help innocent people, not destroy things that had no business being destroyed. She had gone on that she cared about him and he was an idiot if he thought she would just willingly kill him no questions asked just for being a robot. He had been hurt and angry at first, but the utterly heartbroken look in her eyes had derailed it. He had offered an apologetic look, turned on his heel and left, unaware of her just watching his back as he went.

He had expected Maxson to show up, there was no denying it. He hadn't expected to find him outside the doors of the facility with his gun pointed at his head so soon, though.

And then as per usual, Rebecca had come jogging out, just in time. “Dan-” and she had seen what was inevitably going to end up being a messy standoff. He hadn't expected her to straighten out and move just ahead of him to shield him. It was a ridiculous notion, considering the size difference, but at least it was something. 

Maxson had called Rebecca a traitor and given her an ultimatum: kill Danse, or die with him.

Danse's heart had sank when she had apparently mulled it over before she pointed her pistol between his eyes, then was puzzled all over again when she turned and pointed it at Maxson at the last minute.

She didn't shoot him, but she didn't bother hiding the fact that she would if she had to. She had given him the same speech she had given Danse a matter of minutes ago: how ridiculous it was that he had been endlessly loyal and a good soldier and they were throwing it all away. Maxson had called her a traitor again and gone on that she was a disgrace to the Brotherhood. She had merely tossed her hands up, discharged the Brotherhood of Steel power armor she had been using, grabbed Danse's hand and started to drag him away from the site.

Danse panicked when he heard Maxson pull his own gun and shout something.

Rebecca was quicker, but barely. She drew her gun again.

Maxson had stopped and lowered his own gun to see what she would do.

Danse had a sinking feeling he was going to lose one of them. Despite trying to put him to death, he had still been his commanding officer- still been his friend, and he didn't want to lose him. Worse yet, if Maxson beat her to the punch, he'd kill her flat and without remorse. But if she succeeded, the Brotherhood would hunt her down and kill her as well.

Thankfully, the woman had settled for talking... for the time being.

Again, Rebecca went off about how the Brotherhood should have been idealistic people who picked their fights and not shoot people they didn't see fit to live on sight.

Maxson didn't seem to want any of it, so he had inched forward every so often and tried to lean over her to intimidate her.

The more he leaned, the more Rebecca puffed up and advanced on him, not having any of what he had to say, either.

Maxson had backed off after a few moments, and Danse felt he could breathe- filter air, whatever it was now- again. He watched Rebecca leave Maxson's vicinity. He contemplating staying, but just like last time, she had silenced him with a look and he merely turned and followed her. It was all smooth, until Rebecca stopped in her tracks, turned around and shot Maxson in the kneecap. It was over before he fully registered it. She, in turn, merely hissed, “just in case you even thought of following us...” and had pulled Danse out of the area, with Maxson yelling that they'd both be shot on sight the next time they'd be around.

Now, there they were, two days later and a couple of hours away from being back in Sanctuary. Rebecca had thankfully given him space and kept talking to a minimum. It wasn't until then that he reached his breaking point that he should've come to at the Station. He approached her and snapped at her for being stupid about the whole thing: that she should've left him, should've killed him, not thrown herself headfirst into danger and certain death for shooting an Elder. She had looked him in the eye and he caught something in her eyes that he couldn't read before she said it was worth it, and that was that.

They returned to Sanctuary later that day and he finally seemed to grasp how he truly had been far too rude for the situation. She had done everything in her power to be good to him any time they were around each other despite everyone else disliking or all out hating him, and he had come at her with that. It was the last thing she deserved. He had spent the last few hours awake, contemplating what to say, then went to her old house to see her.

That was another thing about her- she took comfort in the strangest ways. After all she had been through, after all she had lost in that very house, she had taken it back as her own and hadn't set up in one of the new ones she had helped construct down the block. He had overheard that other synth ask her about it one day, and she had said it was the only thing that was familiar, so it worked for it. The synth understood and called her stronger for it. He still didn't understand.

It was the other synth who had met him just outside her house to tell him she had already gone off on a job with MacCready. His stomach twisted when he realized he had started to use 'other synth' while thinking of the detective and how odd it was that he was still coming to terms with the fact that he was one quicker than he was adapting to the fact that he was one of them. He wondered if starting to use actual names for the abominations would help. Well, not if he kept up calling them that, it wouldn't, part of him added.

When he grunted in acknowledgement, Nick managed to look shocked. “What, no insult tod- oh, right.”

Danse tried not to do a double take.

Nick shrugged. "It slipped out in conversation when she was worried about you before she found you. I'll level with you, I appreciate the irony, but I get how you must feel about the whole thing. And your secret's safe with me." 

Of course Rebecca would tell the truth to Nick of all peop- things (there he went...) . He didn't know why she'd keep it entirely secret. Out of mere habit he wanted to insult the synth for assuming, but his latest predicament reared its ugly head and he grunted again before he walked off.

“Thought so...” Nick sighed before he continued on his way.

* * *

 

Rebecca and MacCready were gone for days. Everyone had been trying their damndest to give Danse space when Rebecca had brought him back to the place. He didn't miss the hard looks from the ghoul, the robots, the supermutant, the other synth. He wondered if she had told them all, or everyone but Nick was just picking up on a change in him. He had a feeling the synth was at least the type to keep secrets since his job was apparently unraveling them. He tried to make a mental list of things that would've been said if they did know. But at the same time, he hardly came up with answers. The supermutant wouldn't care, he'd just say something about his ability to be crushed, most likely. He wasn't sure about the robot, but the ghoul- the ghoul would have a field day. He couldn't know. He wouldn't let him.

Another couple of hours later he wasn't sure how long that would last. Sanctuary's residents had all gathered around one of the cooking stations for dinner like they always did, and he took his usual place in the far corner, away from everyone. To his surprise, the sy- _Nick_ joined him, sitting on the rock a couple of feet away. He didn't say anything, just sat there. It was strangely welcome, as much as he felt like he didn't need what was probably begrudging pity. It was then that he remembered that Nick didn't eat, and now he had to wonder if he himself had to or not. He felt nauseated and put his plate down and just stared at it for a while. When he looked back up, Nick was gone.

It was just as well. He had tons to consider. The first of which was how he was going to apologize to Rebecca.

When MacCready and Rebecca came back to Sanctuary they were worse for wear. Both looked wide-eyed and panicked, even after they had been home for a few hours. They had apparently come straight back from the Museum of Witchcraft, where they had apparently crossed paths with a giant deathclaw and it had almost been the end of them. Rebecca had a gash going from one shoulder to her opposite side's rib, and MacCredy had claw marks running along his side and a cut on his forehead that a fair bit of blood had dried around, but that supposedly hadn't stopped him from dragging her home. The pair had stuck together most of the time, even after the local doctor had patched them up. When one got up to go somewhere, the other had immediately followed.

Danse was worried about her more than anything. He needed to thank her all over again now that things had calmed down... for him, at least. But her own recovery limited that. He knew if he went to her now and MacCready was still around, even in his haze of pain, the merc would be thrilled to have something to hold over his head. Not to mention Rebecca hardly looked like she could even handle serious conversations at that moment.

So he waited.

The next day he realized he waited too long, because Rebecca had gone off with Codsworth somewhere. As per usual, Nick had the story waiting for him: she finally had an in with getting Shaun back, and she was going to do it, even if she was still woozy. He had tried not to show that he had been hurt that she didn't say anything to him about it, let alone went off on what was undoubtedly a mission that was dangerous without at least a goodbye. Then again, that was the story of her life at this rate, wasn't it? The first time he saw her at the Cambridge Police Station she had bolted past him in order to shoot a ghoul that had almost gotten the drop on him dead. She had admitted being terrified to him afterward, and now he could hardly imagine all of the other emotions that were probably fueling her to just go off and follow up on this lead, just with Codsworth alone.

Nick seemed to catch the look and had noted she'd know he'd be hurt and had told him to pass on a message: that he 'had enough to worry about.' He accepted it, if only for a short while.

It had been another handful of days when Rebecca and Codsworth got back. He had gone to her house to try to apologize again, only to find MacCready was there, sitting against the front door.

The pair of them made eye contact just as they heard Rebecca sob from inside. He stared at the door, then looked back at MacCready.

MacCready, in turn, just shrugged. “Got here early to check on 'er. Valentine's in there now. He's the only one she'll talk to besides Codsworth,” he explained.

“Has he let you in on anything?” he asked. 

“Just that finding Shaun went bad. Really bad,” MacCready replied. After a moment, he flinched and scratched at where Danse could make the bandages from his wound out. After a beat, he dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He put one in his mouth and prepared to light it. He saw that Danse was still hovering and offered the pack to him.

Danse scowled. “I don't sm-”

MacCready practically dropped the pack in his effort to get it away so Danse wouldn't go on with whatever preaching he felt inclined to do.

Danse caught what MacCready was getting at and his scowl got worse. “You shouldn't either, after an injury- it could worsen your health.”

“Tin Man, if you knew what conditions I grew up in you'd know that's a lost cause anyway. Besides, we took like, five stimpaks to the chest each to get healed up, we're fine.”

Danse rolled his eyes, then glanced back at the bedroom window. “She shouldn't be in there alone.”

“She's got Valentine,” MacCready pointed out.

“She needs a _human being_ ,” Danse countered, and it took him a moment to realize he had just ruled himself out of his approved list of her supporters.

MacCready arched an eyebrow at him, and for the briefest moment Danse thought that maybe Rebecca had told everyone as opposed to just her best friend, but MacCready shrugged a moment later and went back to his cigarette, seemingly confirming he didn't know, after all. “Tell you what, Tin Man. I'll let you know when she's out or if Nick gives an update.”

Danse went to retort that he doubted MacCready was being remotely straight with him, but there was something in the younger man's stance and written on his face that made him realize he might actually be able to do that. “Alright...” he hovered a few more moments, then went on his way. He could probably make it look like his power armor needed more work than it actually did.

It was the next morning by the time she came out of the house. He eyes were bloodshot and her entire face was red from crying. It was enough to confirm that something had gone horribly wrong. He just hoped that her son wasn't dead. He was horrible with people in general, women even more so, and he wouldn't know how to handle being there for her in that situation.

Everyone had all but swarmed the house when Nick came out, and he had just implored them to “give her a bit of space, but feel free to check in 'but wouldja just... let her give you the details if it comes to that- don't go asking,” and had also gone off on his own.

Piper had checked in first, then MacCready, then Cait, Hancock, then Preston, Curie- after a while it was just him and that supermutant that he was no way in Hell going to start calling by name just yet. He found her by one of the stone walls overlooking the river and walked over. He leaned on the next post over and waited for her to speak.

And waited, and _waited_...

“I appreciate the silence but even Preston broke by now...” Rebecca mused.

Danse almost choked on his own tongue. “I-I uh, uh...” he rubbed his neck. “Just... wasn't sure if you'd be up for talking... or telling the story for the... whatever number time you're at. Figured I'd just... be here- for you.” No, he was doomed. This was bad, he could see himself crashing and burning in a giant ball of flame.

She looked at him and smiled weakly, then sidestepped so she was shoulder to shoulder with him. “He's an old man, Danse. Higher powers have a strange vendetta against me because my baby- my Shaun is an old man right now. I thought I had this... two hundred years into the future thing squared up, and it turns out there's even more... time travel stuff that I don't get and my son's an old man who's in charge of the Institute. If he was even telling the truth. Shit, he could've just been some poor jackass that someone told to say all that to me and my baby's still in there somewhere.”

He tried not to look too perplexed. “He's... in charge of the Institute?”

She frowned and nodded, then shook her head. “It all just- it's so hard to follow, and God, if it's really him, if that's really Shaun- I've failed him.”

Danse leaned back for a moment. Here was the strongest woman he had ever known, on the verge of breaking- if she hadn't already. He hurt for her. He was surprised at how desperately he wanted to hold her, too, even if it was just to ensure her that he was there for her, and if he had anything to say about it, he always would be. “No, you didn't. You did all you could with the time you had with him. What happened... when you were out, when you didn't have a choice- you can't help that.”

“I could've-”

“Soldier-”

“ _Rebecca_.” The correction was cold and finite, unlike all of the other times she had done it with a smile and a nudge on his arm.

Danse frowned at her.

She shrugged. “I'm not your subordinate or a soldier anymore, remember?”

Danse flinched. “About that-”

She flinched, and he wanted to bury himself in the ground and die because really, things could only get worse from there. She sighed again after a moment. “Maxson is a bastard, Danse. I don't regret that one bit. I was in over my head anyway. I wasn't- you heard me, I'm not at all about killing people without real reason just because someone asked me to.”

The dig at Maxson still felt oddly insulting- as did the 'just because someone asked', which came across as a dig at him, but he let it slide for now. He reached out for her, then stopped, tried again, stopped and finally, finally made contact at the third pass. It was nothing more than giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He was genuinely surprised when she reached up to hold his hand there.

Tears visibly threatened to form in her eyes again, but she covered it with a weak laugh. She took his hand off her shoulder, only to assist in turning around to face the town again. “Well, Danse. You and I have had a Hell of a few days, and I have a crate full of random liquor. Wanna join me in making it a couple of bottles lighter?”

Danse laughed weakly, then shrugged. “Sounds just fine to me.”

They made their way back to her house and did just that, opening a bottle of whiskey first. To his surprise, they didn't talk about what had transpired when she was away. She didn't seem to even want to, and he wasn't going to push it. When she wanted to talk to him, she always came to him on her time. It would only be a matter of time. He just had to wait. They were through one bottle and almost onto the next by the time that Danse realized it was a disaster waiting to happen, and she was gone enough that when he hid the other bottle, she failed to notice.

Right after he hid it, she squinted at him. “S'how come I'm drunk and Hell and you're not? S' it a … robot thing?”

He flinched, then sighed. “I'm starting to think that, yes.” When she stared at him for a while then laughed, his usual nervousness kicked in. “What?”

She snapped out of it. “Wha- oh, nothing. It's just... you know, this old song from my time- like, old old. _Me old_. To me, n' less." 

“That's what you just said-”

“No, like, _older._ ”

Danse stared at her for a while, figuring it was better to let her elaborate then correct her again.

“Anyway, s'is thing ' _sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it's better than drinking alone_.' Thought it was real stupid back in the day, b' now, not so much. Because it's true now, y'know?” She looked up at him. “I'm- I'm glad you're here, Danse. Even if n' one else is. Well, _was_ \- they're warming up to you, I think.”

He let the comment register and frowned at her, but she just blinked back up at him and offered that usual reassuring smile. He realized she probably didn't have any clue of what she had actually just said and looked away. It made what he was about to say just as null and void, but if he didn't say it, he'd burst.  “I know I thanked you before, but I need to do it again. I owe you my life multiple times over now. Anything you need me to do, I'll do.”

She smiled lazily at him, then turned and rested her head on his shoulder.

Danse let his shoulders slump a bit to accommodate her. He stared ahead, enjoying what he thought was suddenly companionable silence until he noticed that her breathing was too even and slow for her to be awake. He glanced down again, and sure enough she was out cold- from the alcohol or stress, he didn't know. He shrugged to see if she could be shaken out of it, but she didn't budge. So it must've been a mix of the two options. It made perfect sense. He eased himself away from her, then picked her up just to raise her a couple of feet and set her on the bed. He watched her for a moment, and before he could stop himself he brushed the few strand of hair that had fallen in her face away from it. It was no secret, at least to him that he had it bad for her. It was hard not to when she had been his hero multiple times, tried to do the right thing- in matters other than the Brotherhood, of course, and a man would have to be oblivious to not think she was beautiful on top of all of that. After all she had been through, he hated that he was almost constantly in her debt, and he hoped he could return the favor someday.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Rebecca Hobbes- well, she supposed now it was back to Abernathy, had never taken long to fall in love with a man. Even in high school, her romantic relationships had formed quickly, but had been quite serious at the same time. She had met Nate at a club just after law school. She had been there to celebrate her friend’s engagement, and he had been there with some soldier friends. Like any bad romantic movie that she usually hated, the pair had literally bumped into each other, and it was essentially love at first sight. Of course, in her case, it was more for material reasons. If asked, she would've cheerfully admitted she had fallen in love with his perfect hair first. When he profusely apologized and offered to buy her a drink, she accepted. The pair had exchanged a bit of banter and flirting for most of the night, their own company all but forgotten. They proceeded to go back to her place for the night. Three months later, they were engaged, and another three months later they were married. She had come from money and he hadn't, so her family constantly reminded her that she could “do better”, and they were “going too fast”, but she never had any of it. She loved Nate, and they were living a military couple lifestyle, and both knew Nate could die in combat, so they only ever looked out for each other and took pride in proving her family wrong and were endlessly grateful Nate's family adored the match. Granted, her parents didn't like the rebellion, so the marriage had cost her all her family but her younger sister. Admittedly Rebecca mourned the loss of her family, but Shaun came along and she chose to focus on the new family they had made.

Then fast forward a few months later yet again, and both Nate and Shaun were gone in their own ways. In Nate's case, he was gone and Rebecca felt like he was gone from her life as quickly as he had entered it.

She had been surprised at how quickly she had… dealt with his death in the long run. When she had gone back to the Vault with Codsworth and Nick and saw him- talked to him, promised him updates on finding Shaun- it had somehow been most of the closure she had needed. There wasn't complete closure, but... enough. She'd always love him, but this was an extremely special case that required her to move on quickly.

Granted, the whole ordeal only made her realizing she was attracted to both Danse and MacCready only slightly easier on her conscience. The fact it was two men wasn't helping. This wasn't college anymore. She was a grown woman, a damn widow, she shouldn't be getting schoolgirl crushes. 

Danse was only like Nate in the soldier aspect, but otherwise, he was completely different. He was too serious, and God only knew he needed a reality check with how he treated non-humans. And he ended up getting the mother of all reality checks in that case. Otherwise he was endlessly kind and patient with her, and his awkwardness was oddly endearing. She had tested the waters here and there just to see how he'd react and if he was interested back, but he had been oblivious. She hadn't had the heart to press anything, especially considering recent events.

MacCready was closer to Nate in a lot of ways. The same sense of humor, same way he smiled, same tough guy act that culminated in being a decent follower- he even looked like Nate to a point. Really, she should've seen falling for the younger man coming, if anything. They were instant friends, and then somewhere along the way things had shifted. When they had watched each other almost die via that giant, terrifying deathclaw or whatever they were called, they had gone back, recovered, he had shown up at her door and she had all but lunged at him- or his mouth, rather, and he had met her halfway. It had been a lot of tripping down the hallway and to the bedroom. She knew should've felt awful about moving on so soon after losing Nate- in her conscious timeline, anyway, but when she was halfway through unzipping her dress when she realized that Nate would've liked him. They would've probably been good friends. That added a new layer of fucked up to this little... thing they were about to change, but her mind worked it into a blessing from Nate, and that was that. They proceeded to have some of the admittedly best sex Rebecca had ever had. And the next morning, she was fairly surprised that he was still there next to her. She was even more surprised that when he woke, he merely murmured something she didn't quite catch and pulled her back against his chest.

Later that day they had discussed it- they didn't regret it, had enjoyed it, had a hell of a lot of feelings for each other, but they didn't want anyone to know just yet. It was a good plan and they had stuck to it, and tried desperately to keep their blossoming relationship active only when they were out together. They had been perfectly happy with things like that.

And then she had finalized her plans to get Shaun and gone off on her own to get into the Institute with the Railroad, and her life went to Hell all over again.

She still couldn't believe what she had found out. She didn't want to, either. The man that turned out to be responsible for all this slavery, all of the kidnappings, all the horror stories- was Shaun, after Kellogg took him out of that pod. After she was forced out of his life, leaving him open to be manipulated. And then Shaun- if it really was him, had gone an extra step and said Nate's death was collateral damage. She remembered leaving the Institute numb, zapping back to Sunshine Tidings, and being conscious just long enough to see Deacon perk up at her appearance and ask something that she couldn't make out before she blacked out. Then she was in and out of consciousness, dimly aware of the fact it was Deacon carrying her back to Sanctuary when she was awake. When they got there, Deacon had made some quip about her body only being able to tolerate travel through space and time while being a “human Popsicle”, then he left shortly after. She had faded out again, and when she woke up, Nick had been at the foot of her bed. He had greeted her, and she had immediately broken down and told him everything. Nick, in turn, had assured her he'd keep visitors at bay. He did, then kept a running list of who came to check in so he could list them off later when she was in better shape to see them. She had felt bad hearing MacCready stopped by multiple times only to be turned away, but she needed the space.

When she was convinced she could handle seeing people, she had let Nick lead them in. The ones who were around town just short of interrogated her, and when she explained what she had happened, they had dropped their questioning and offered condolences and a shoulder to cry on if she needed it. MacCready hadn't said a damn thing- he had just held her, and that was enough to trigger her second breakdown because it was just what she needed again. He had taken it in strides, letting it happen, not saying a word and allowing her to let it out.  She was half convinced she was in love with him right there. She had left to get alone time again afterward, and was in the middle of realizing she needed a goddamn drink when almost just as expected, Danse had finally shown up. She was fed up as much as she was charmed with how carefully he approached her.  When she called him out on hovering, he had owned up to it immediately. She hadn't expected him to accept her invitation to drink with her, but he did. It was the greatest news of the day.

After the first couple of drinks she had already lost track of almost everything they were talking about. She could really focus on how brown Danse's eyes were and how attractive the way he was looking at her was and how badly she wanted to kiss the man ( _' Rob- you have Rob for that' some still-aware part of her reminded herself there_ ) and she wanted so desperately to ignore it as she rambled on about some song from the old days, and there was that look of his again, the same uncertain wonder he looked at her with and she was damn ready to kiss that stupid expression off his face when all of her thought processes stopped short. Exhaustion had caught up with her and put her out like a light. 

When she woke, daylight was streaming through the makeshift curtains she had by her bed and she frantically tried to recollect how she had gotten back to bed. When she remembered Danse had been with her, she figured he had done it. She got out of bed and went to the kitchen to throw some sort of meal together. When the front door opened and MacCready stepped through the doorway, she offered a tired smile. “Hey...”

“Hey. How you holdin' up?” he asked.

“I... I honestly don't know. I... obviously I could be be better, but... I'm just kind of numb to it all... I was... I was just so close. And if he's telling the truth...” she shook her head. “If I overthink it anymore I'll go insane. Getting drunk off my ass didn't even help.”

“Then you still got your answers, even if they weren't what you were looking for...” MacCready pointed out. He walked over to her and nudged the pot of things she had been gathering aside before he picked her up and put her on the counter.

She smiled weakly and looped her arms around his neck. “You hear about Duncan yet?”

“He's getting better. Those meds did the trick.”

“Good. That mean I get to meet him soon?”

“Probably. I take you want a subject change?” he teased in response.

“And just when I thought I was gonna have to start taking my clothes off to get you away from that topic.”

“I won't complain if you still wanna go that route, but... you sure you done talking?”

“For now...” she sighed. She leaned in to kiss him, and he met her halfway. He pulled her closer, then let out a playful yelp when she went right for his belt. “You're not wasting time, huh?”

“Not today.”

“Alright...” he went back to kissing her and went to work on her jeans. She all but scrambled to scoot out of them and kick them off. She finally won the fight with his fly, pulled him free and sank onto him on one steady motion.

MacCready hissed at the unexpected speed, but it broke off into a moan when he found she was already wet. “You're _really_ not wasting time.”

“Slower requires thinking and thinking isn't my friend right now.”

“You sure you don't wanna ta-”

“ _Rob._..”

“Okay...” he sighed. She arched against him and he slid deeper into her. She offered a moan of her own.

The front door suddenly swung open again and both of them froze.

“Uh, Rebecca, yo- oh!" Danse was on the other side of the threshold; and the moment the door opened enough for him to see the sight to behold, his face dropped. 

The couple stared back at him for a moment before they frantically detangled themselves and sprang away as much as they could in order to cover up.

Danse, who had been trying desperately not to gawk while going a deep read in the face, finally snapped out of it. “I'll come back!” he blurted before he promptly turned around and slammed the door shut behind him.

The other two stared at the door for a few seconds. MacCready was the first to crack by letting out a snort. Rebecca answered with one of her own, but hers was more exasperated than amused. “I feel like I just got caught by my dad...” the merc pointed out.

“Don't start. Oh God, I should go apologize..." she pointed out. She immediately went to work getting the rest of her clothing back in order. 

“Danse is a big boy. He can take it. Hell, he's a soldier, he's probably walked in on worse.”

She shot him a look and straightened out her clothes.

MacCready groaned. “Really? Becs, the guy's a dick, let him squirm a bit the next time he sees us.”

“He's also a friend and I'd feel bad. I'd feel bad if it was anyone else, too.”

He reluctantly let go of her hips and helped her off the counter. “Fine.”

She smiled and kissed his nose. “To be continued.”

“It better be.”

She kissed him again, longer this time, then finished righting herself. She headed for the front door and waited a few moments before opening it. Danse would either be by the cul-de-sac or he'd be hanging back with Sturges. Hell, the way he was looking at them, he might have even been hiding to avoid them after the fact. At least he was giant enough where he wouldn't be hard to find. She didn't have to look long, since as expected, he was next door with Sturges, attempting to look like he was repairing a water pipe. He was ducked down, clearly just waiting- most likely for her or her and MacCready to find him.“Danse!”

The man hit his head on the pipe he was working under in his rush to stand up. Even after that, he refused to look her in the face.

She was just as nervous, but she tried to play it off. “About that-”

“Don't worry about it. My mistake,” he replied, a little too quickly. “I thought when I knocked you had heard me, I thought you-” he trailed off and went a bit red in the face. “It wasn't what I thought it was.”

“Usually we're more careful than that. And we usually lock the doors.”

Danse blanched. “You two have been... eng- intimate for a while?” he asked. 

“Not long, but yes,” she answered. She frowned when he finally looked her in the eye, then looked away again. "Was everything alright? What did you need when you came by?”

Danse finally seemed to be relaxing as the conversation went on. He was still having a hard time looking at her, though. “It... it was nothing. Just... wanted to make sure you were okay after last night. You put away a lot of alcohol and I... well, no one really knows your tolerance.”

She smiled weakly and rested her hand on his arm. She felt him tense, and wasn't sure whether the situation was as funny as something in the back of her mind seemed to think it was. Of course the guy who just walked in on you having sex was going to be weird with physical contact. " pat his arm. “I'm good, but thanks. Glad to know I have someone watching my back for the little things as well as the big things." 

“Always,” Danse assured her.

She smiled again, but it faded when his own smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “Was that it? We've been over this. If something's bothering you, you can tell me.”

Danse hesitated. For a few moments, he seemed to watch something on the horizon. He mouthed something to himself that she couldn't make out,  then sighed. “Remember how I confided in you about Haylen?”

“... Yes?”

He took another deep breath before he continued. “I'm returning the favor. I'm just... worried about you with MacCready...” he admitted. “I think you could do better.”

Her face dropped, and she could tell his did too and he visibly regretted his words, but the damage was done. She was back in her family home, getting stared down by her mother and father all over again. And it hurt. Danse had just enough social graces to talk himself out of a box, and she hadn't expected him to talk himself right back into it. It wasn't his fault, it was the phrasing, but Hell, it still counted. She thought he'd have enough brains to keep his nose out of her personal business. She knew it was wrong, but the chord had already been struck pretty damn hard. “Excuse me?”

He shrunk back, then something seemed to click in his head and he straightened out. “He's a common criminal, and you don't... you don't need that in your life. You're too good for him.”

That certainly hadn't been the direction she had expected things to go. She wasn't sure how he could go from concerned friend to overstepping asshole within moments, either. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I think I can make up my own damn mind about who I have in my life that way, don't you?”

“I- I'm just concerned.”

“Don't be,” she deadpanned.

“If I've offended-”

“You have.”

“It wasn't my intention.”

“Alright, Danse.”

Danse stared at her for a moment, then sighed again. 

She frowned back. “What else did you have to say?”

He looked pained again. “I didn't- now I don't want to do this under... these circumstances, but... I was going to leave for a while- go back to Station Bravo. I... you said something last night, and it stuck with me...” he explained, and when her look of anger faded a bit, he seemed encouraged. “You said I was at least trying to deal with who- _what_ I am, and... I realize that I'm one of the things I've vowed to destroy, and you have an entire squad of them here. I can't- I can't try to be better about it when I'm surrounded by them- when I've been raised to hate them. I still need to sort things out, and I need to be alone to do that. Because I want to try to be better about it...” he went on, and then looked like he had been kicked in the stomach as he continued, “for you, because it's the least I can do.”

She looked up at him. His confession had taken down the anger a few notches, but it was still there.  She was going to have a Hell of a time being mad after that, especially if he gave her that goddamn puppy look- aaaand there it was. Bastard probably knew that was a damn good weapon against her. “Fine, then. Just... be careful, okay?” she asked, and her heart broke a bit when he looked hopeful. Yeah, she had most definitely overreacted before. Danse was nothing like her parents. Hell, at this rate he'd probably have offered to shoot them if he ever met them. “I don't want to lose the opportunity to beat your ass for trying to butt into my love life to some random mutated animal or some lucky raider. I'm the only one allowed to knock some sense into you." 

“I don't intend to give it to them,” Danse replied.

She nodded carefully. After a beat, she crossed her arms over her chest. He had gotten clear of the doghouse, but now his admission sunk in and a new fear took hold of her. She needed to tell him as much. “Also, I hate to say this, but... especially after what you just said, I have some weird feeling you're only still alive because you feel indebted to me- you know, with what Maxson said. If I give you time, if I go to Station Bravo in... I don't know, two or three days just to check on you, promise me when I get back you'll still be there waiting for me," she blurted.

Danse squinted at her in confusion, but what she was getting at seemed to dawn on him and his eyebrows shot up. She thought he was suicidal. Admittedly she wasn't that far off, but it was a last resort after all this. “I wouldn't- well, I suppose I would-”

The hesitation physically hurt her, and she prayed that it wasn't a giveaway that that was what he had planned to do, since all signs pointed to that being true. She had the sudden urge to vomit. It must've shown on her face, because Danse tossed his hands up frantically. 

“ _Have considered it ...before,_ but you have my word," he finished. 

She let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding before she lurched upright in order to hug him as best she could, trying to accommodate the power armor in the process. “I care about you, you stupid bucket of bolts. Don't fuck it up.”

Danse, who had gone absolutely still in reaction to the unexpected contact and her word choice, eased up a bit. “Like I said, I don't plan to. It'll only be a few days. I can promise you that, too.”

“You better.” She pulled back.

Danse smiled down at her, then looked back at what had caught his eye before.

She turned to see what it was, and wasn't quite sure what to think when she saw it was MacCready, and judging by his facial expression, he had heard everything. She looked back at Danse.

Danse, in turn, hadn't stopped looking at MacCready. His smile faded and he set his jaw. After a moment, he turned to face the man fully. “Hurt her and I'll end you.”

MacCready smiled, and Rebecca hated that she couldn't tell if he was smug or just amused. “I'll just have to take your word for it, Tin Man.”

Danse gave him one last glare before he took one final look at Rebecca, nodded a farewell, then went on his way.

Rebecca watched him go until he was past the footbridge, then looked back at MacCready, who just grinned and shrugged. That decided that- she was going to give Danse no more than an eight hour head start, just in case, and damn it, MacCready was coming with her.

She just hoped things wouldn't start falling apart without her.

Being the Commonwealth's latest appointed hero was getting pretty damn ridiculous pretty damn fast, after all.

The things she did for her country.

Nate would be proud of that, at least. She'd accept that.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Danse was learning quite quickly that the sight of the first woman he was interested in in years and the man who made it his mission in life to make him miserable being... _intimate_ was not one easily forgotten. He was just under a quarter mile to Station Bravo, and he wanted to get there and try to sleep the image off as soon as he could. He hadn't been lying about needing space away from the Synths and ghouls and others to think about his life hadn't been a lie, but that image was the driving factor.

He was bitter, and for once, he had no problem admitting it. He could understand- and even accept losing Rebecca to Preston, Deacon, Sturges, Hell even Valnetine, but her being interested in MacCready made no sense and he was damn sure he wasn't fond of that idea.

He tried to stop that thought process short. Now wasn't the time. He had bigger things to occupy his thoughts now. After a few moments, he entered a clearing. He felt a twig snap under his feet and scrambled to duck when he heard shouting up ahead. He listened.

Shouting, borderline maniacal laughter- raiders, no doubt. He stepped closer a few times, grateful that the twig had snapped before they had seen him. He needed to find a way around them fast. He moved back, then stopped short when there was a deafening roar that came from the raider's direction. He squinted to see what had caused it, then wished he hadn't. The raiders had apparently thought attempting to capture a Behemoth would end well for them. The creature was in the process- and a moment later had succeeded in flattening them all-

_And had just seen him._

Danse turned and bolted, but the thing was behind him in a matter of seconds flat. He wished he had thought to take his power armor- it would've given him just a slightly better chance at survival. Then again, he was alone, and that would've eliminated the advantage then and there. Suddenly, something hit the ground so hard and fast the earth shook and he went down.

There was another deafening roar from right above him, and when he glanced up, all he caught sight of was a giant, spiked, hammer made from a boulder, and then it came down directly on his chest, and then everything promptly went black.

 

* * *

 

“Danse!”

 _Pain. Mind numbing, terrible_ pain.

When Danse came to at hearing his name, he couldn't focus on anything else but the pain. His vision was spotted with red. He struggled to remember the last few moments he had been awake. He did so and panicked, fearing that the Behemoth was still around, but he couldn't even move to check.

And now here he was, somehow still alive, but barely.

So he realized he was lying in a pool of his own blood- or oil or whatever synth blood was. That was the sickest joke of all, really. He had survived so much, and here he was, dying from being in the wrong place in the wrong time. He could feel blood coming up and he choked on it.

“D- Oh God, DANSE!”

There was the voice again, sounding far away and muffled. Suddenly, the blistering sun was blocked out by a deep red. The part of his brain that wasn't failing him at that moment put together that he knew that red- he had had it in his eyeline far too many times for him not to have recognized it. Rebecca's hair. She'd come to find him early. He would've been annoyed had it not been so relieving in the circumstances. Sure en+-ough, her face drifted into his vision, upside down. She was bent over him, looking absolutely terrified. She was saying something, but a low hum had started in his ears that drowned it out. And after a beat, he realized that when she came for him, he first thing she saw after they had spoken on the phone and he had made the promise not to take his life to her face, he looked like he had. “Rebec...!” he choked out. His vision blurred, and he reached for her. “Behemoth. Not me. _Not_.”

She hovered over him for a few moments, and he wasn't sure if that meant she was trying to talk to him or didn't believe him and was giving him That Look. There was a light pressure at his cheek and his head spun, and suddenly she was gone. He panicked for a moment until she showed up above him again, and then another pressure started up- smaller than the first, on- and then _in_ his neck. His eyes started to refocus. Her voice was starting to clear up, too.

“-amn it, stay with me. Stay with me, do you hear me?! I can't do this without you! Christ, can't this thing hurry up?! Why do they never work fast when you need them to?!”

She came into full focus, and his heart ached for a completely new reason when she looked terrified and she had clearly been on the verge of tears. She was the most level-headed woman he knew in the Commonwealth, so if his injuries got that much of a reaction, they must've been worse than they even felt. He realized the pressure was probably a stimpak. Things were clearing up, so there was hope, at least.

The next few seconds of silence were loaded with every possible emotion, and then he carefully took a breath. It was smooth, and he suddenly realized the pain was fading immensely, and the amount he had been feeling seconds before had been more him flinching at how much he had been in when he came to.

Rebecca looked him over once before she let out a relieved breath and let her forehead fall to his chest.

His chest clenched at the mere feelings it brought on, and it was in that moment that he realized just how in deep he was. “Re-”

She leaned up and kissed him before he could even finish the word.

He froze, stunned for a moment, and he wondered if this was the bloodloss playing tricks on his mind. Was this her own adrenaline from thinking he had tried to kill himself and finding out it wasn't the case? What about MacCready? Just what the Hell was this?! Despite all the questions, he subconsciously returned it after a moment. It ended up being just in time for her to pull back and settle back onto her calves. His heart sunk when she looked half surprised and half guilty. And then she just looked pained.

She started to stand up. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't ha- you don- _I_ should _go,”_ she blurted. She stood up and immediately turned on her heel to leave. She stopped short, almost tripping over her own feet in the process, turned back and knelt right back down, but didn't meet his eyes. Admittedly, he suddenly found the ground a great deal more interesting, too. “What the Hell am I saying, you were just an inch from death and you should be anything but alone and _holy shit,_ are you alright and-” she rambled on.

“It's okay- I'm okay... thanks to you, again.” he assured her. When she frowned at him, he continued to not meet her eyes. “I don't want you going off alone if that thing is still around.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “Can- can you stand? Walk?”

Danse tested the first question and sat up carefully. He took the moment to examine the damage. The full-on tears in his body were closed up, but there would no doubt be scars. He scooted up to stand, and it hurt all over again when she reached to help him up, then let her hands drop at the last moment. Not that he hadn't been... party to what had just gone on between them, he worried that the slip had just wrecked their friendship. Maxson would be ecstatic, something in the back of his head pointed out, and that sentiment lit a fire in his mind that made him determined enough to follow through and stand. He swayed on his feet at the last minute, and Rebecca did come in to help him there. They locked eyes again for a moment, and then:

“Bec, you find 'em?!”

Danse heard MacCready's voice and wondered if actually not being found and dying a painful death would've been a more welcome outcome, considering what had transpired moments before.

Even Rebecca looked mortified.

Danse spotted MacCready jogging over and tried to look as passive as possible. Which was hard, when you suddenly had a monumental awkward secret and the last bit of pain hadn't ebbed away yet.

The younger man stopped short behind them and gawked at Danse's wounds. “Shi- shoot. Deathclaw?”

“Behemoth,” Rebecca answered for him. “Help me with him.” She made a point of stretching out her body to indicate she meant for him to get on Danse's unsupported side.

To his credit, MacCready did so without hesitation. “Where are we headed?”

“Back to Sanctuary,” Rebecca continued. She glanced at Danse. “You can think about it there. It was stupid letting you go alone, and I knew it.”

Danse wasn't sure whether 'it' was the kiss, his synth status, or both, and then, of course:

“What's 'it'?” MacCready chimed in.

“Nothing,” the other two replied, just a bit too quickly.

 _Both it is, then_ , Danse thought to himself.

MacCready looked from one of them to the other, then seemed to decide not to press the issue further.

They made quick time for getting back to Sanctuary, aided by a caravan they had come across along the way. Rebecca had negotiated with them- if the caravan could get them back home quickly, she would let them use the settlement as a base of operations for a while, with a guaranteed major profit. They had accepted, and they were on their way once again.

They had gotten back by first light of the next day. Rebecca went off on her own to do business around town, MacCready went off doing... whatever it was that he did, and Danse tried to make himself scarce again. It wasn't until that night that he realized he and Rebecca were apparently avoiding each other. He couldn't be mad, he was doing it just as much as she was, but he knew that alone would get people curious. Before, she would always seek him out, multiple times a day: checking to see how his day was, wanting a second opinion on a power armor tune-up, passing on whatever joke Sturges had told her- anything, everything.

Even Sheffield looked puzzled when he saw Danse walking down the street, glanced to his right- her usual spot if they walked together, and found it vacant.

Of course, he hadn't really started to worry until the next day when the avoidance persisted. That was when he realized Nick and Deacon had noticed. He and Rebecca had been in a few-foot radius of each other and hadn't so much as looked each others way at one point. He just happened to see Nick look between them a couple of times, and murmur 'huh...'. Of course Nick would just sense something and that would be his response. Deacon, standing beside Nick, on the other hand, was far less subtle. He had looked between them and just known, too, but he merely glanced Danse's way again, made eye-contact over those shades of his and offered a knowing smile and a tilt of his head.

Nick could stay. He was going to kill Deacon if something went sideways.

After a moment, he considered that thought and realized just how far he'd come in the last few days in every other aspect of his life.

That was the price of keeping multiple kinds of geniuses as company.

Who were they kidding. It was a very, very short matter of time before news of that kiss would get around, considering the whole 'Rebecca and MacCready are a Thing' bit was already getting around. That was, unless they managed to weave some consistent story on some other secret they could've shared.

Which, of course, could have easily been that he was a synth. Which would make for a whole new slew of problems that made idle gossip seem like nothing.

They were both in for it. He knew that much. He just wished they would be prepared if it came to it.

 


	4. Chapter 4

If it was one thing MacCready resented, it was that apparently everyone took him as blind or just plain dumb. Sure, he didn’t have most of the brains that the rest of the Sanctuary gang had, but he did have some. Yes, he had his moments of cluelessness. Growing up in a dangerous situation did that to people. It also made him tough enough to survive. But that was beside the point. What the point in all this was was that he could physically see and realize what was going on. Especially if he was one of only three people in a wide, albeit hilly, open field.

He had seen Rebecca kiss Danse. It would have been impossible not to. He had also seen it had been a clearly panicked, in the moment action.

He had seen both parties look torn about it.  

He had almost not called out for them because he was so torn about what to feel himself.

As far as he was concerned, Danse was an idiot. An idiot who apparently had some giant, life-changing thing happen in the last few weeks that made him more humble and friendlier; so maybe he was _their_ idiot, but an idiot all the same.

He knew Danse was head over heels in love- yes, _love_ , with Rebecca just as much as he was. He saw how he looked at her, and how Rebecca looked back. He knew he had a slim chance against the guy that looked like he was straight off a recruitment poster- built like a fu- _darn_ tank under that power armor, he had decent hair, decent eyes, good, healthy smile. He was every girl’s dreamboat, the jerk.

Then again, he had been so focused on how Danse and Rebecca looked at each other, he had apparently overlooked that Rebecca had been giving him that same look. After they had gotten together after she had taken him to Med Tech Research, it was a small comfort that one of the main thoughts that he had after seeing them was that she had chosen him _first_ , even when she had known Danse longer.

Since she had first hired him, they had just… clicked, even for being on two different parts of the morality scale. Usually he wouldn’t dare joke with the person paying him in the first few hours or days of being on the job, but Rebecca had looked like she needed the laughs. He knew he was right when he had called a mirelurk that had snuck up on them a ‘Creeper McFishface” after they killed it, and she was just about moved to tears from laughing so hard at the unexpected name-calling. There had been more of that, and then she had slowly started to joke around with him, or take his own material and run with it. After that, on serious notes he opened up to her about his life, then vice versa, and he had no issue saying they probably considered each other best friends after an extremely short while.

Then she had gone and fought her way through Med Tech Research to help get Duncan’s cure, and after that where was the Museum and that stupid giant deathclaw that was on a mission to rip them to shreds happened. When Rebecca lay bleeding- dying at his feet and he had settled for throwing a grenade at the creature to distract it and then dragged her out of there. She kept looking worse for wear by the hour- not that it wasn’t the same case for him, but he cared less about that He refused to lose another person he cared so deeply for. For the first time in years, he had figured a miracle occurred when a passing caravan had shown up. He had talked his way into having the traders loan them a brahmin to them for a few hours and that it could be picked up at Sanctuary later.  It cut the time it took to get back home by at least a third. When they did arrive, the doctors in town had carted them off to different areas, and he was left with his own pain and a sinking feeling in his stomach and the constant chanting of ‘you’re gonna lose her, just like you lost Lucy’ in his head. And then he realized that he felt more than fondness that came with a friendship for her. It was what made him sit at her doorstep for hours, waiting for Valentine-the only one that the doctors were letting into her house, much to his annoyance- or one of the docs themselves to say something.

And then Danse had shown up, looking just as worried for Rebecca as he was. Between not having any fight left in him, and finally reaching a level of sympathy with him for the situation alone, he had promised the man that he’d tell him when he heard anything about her.

He had stayed on Rebecca’s doorstep for hours that felt like ages. The docs had come out sometime the next morning and had told him she was doing better. He had passed on the news to Danse, and he noted again that Danse was utterly silent, but it was that same relieved silence he was going through too.

And then he had given her space for a couple of days before he checked on her. And then she had stood in front of him and then yanked him down for a kiss, then far more than a kiss a few moments later it was all her- or mostly her, anyway. It was what kept him there, in bed with her, until the morning. It let him tolerate her playing with his hair and murmuring whatever comments she had about preparing for her day.

A couple of days after that they had begun to continue… whatever it was between them, and of course, of course Danse had walked in on them.

He had almost felt sorry for the bastard again, but his possessive, arrogant side won out, especially after Rebecca had tried to get right back to business after the other man had hightailed it away.

Things had been quiet after that for a while, util he had walked  into what was most likely a private conversation between Rebecca and Danse. They were standing too close, and there was touching, and a hug, and the pair of them looked like they were on the verge of tears. And then Danse had noticed them and his usual scowl was back, and he had threatened to kill him if he ever hurt her. Rebecca, in turn, barely reacted, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that, either.  Danse left Sanctuary that night, so he decided to push it back in his mind.

And then Danse had been gone for more than a couple of days, which even he found odd. It was enough for Rebecca to say that Danse was “missing” and she had withdrawn from everyone the following day. Even Nick had barely gotten a full sentence out of her in town. The uneasy jealousy came back for a while, even more so when she had recruited him to help go find him. But he agreed, because he _loved_ her, and he’d rather die than hurt her.

When they had made it two thirds of the way to Station Bravo, she had started to panic. It was enough to get the pit in his stomach to start up again. He had insisted they should stop for at least a few hours at one point, and instead of sleeping, she had unloaded on him, that there had been a fight, and she had found out Danse was or at least had been suicidal (there was part of the story that she was clearly leaving out, but he didn’t ask questions), and he had promised to come back alright and if they hadn’t come across him yet, something was definitely wrong.

When they had almost reached Station Bravo, Rebecca was near frantic. Even he was starting to get worried about the bastard. They had agreed to split up, but only a few yards apart. They had taken to climbing hills and trees and the buildings around to try and get a better vantage point of the area. The pair of them had been so caught up in searching that they had missed the approaching Behemoth. Then leave it to him to see the car flying directly at Rebecca. He had been close enough that he only had to bolt to the right and tackle her to the ground to save her life again. They managed to dispatch the monstrosity after a few minutes, and then the search continued with renewed vigor.

They had split up again after that, crossing paths every so often just in case.

The silence in the area was most concerning. MacCready had half expected another Behemoth to be around.

And when he heard Rebecca yell “Oh God!” in the distance, he was confident his fears were confirmed and tore off in her direction again.

He had reached the top of the hill that separated them and looked down, relieved to see Rebecca and Danse, with no danger in sight. That was, until the rest of the sight to behold registered with him. His heart might as well have skipped a beat when he could see from his spot feet away that Danse’s chest might as well have been ripped open and he was covered in blood. He started down the hill, unable to look away, then stopped in his tracks when he saw Rebecca lean down and kiss Danse.

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. He was furious for a moment- until he blinked and suddenly they weren’t kissing anymore, but they both looked shocked and guilty- he wasn’t sure how Danse was capable of that after all that blood loss, but he’d take whatever comfort he could after that. Rebecca had evidently said something to Danse and had scooted back, inch by inch, only to stop. The gut punch stopped and the fondness was back suddenly, because of course she would feel bad, then feel guilty over the situation that apparently led to the thing she first felt bad about.

The other two looked like they were about to choke on their words, so MacCready took that as his queue to announce his presence. He hoped it came across like he had just arrived. “Bec? You find him?”

Danse and Rebecca looked at him like spooked radstags, and any other moment he would’ve appreciated that, given the situation, but then sympathy took over again because he got a better look at Danse’s injuries and his body ached for the other man. “Shi- shoot. Deathclaw?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Behemoth. Help me with him?” Rebecca requested, a little too quickly.

He hesitated again, then couldn’t help but feel like a terrible person for doing so. Kiss aside, Danse looked like he was on Death’s door, even with a stimpak sticking out of his side. He got to Danse’s other side and eased the soldier’s arm over his shoulder. “Where are we headed?”

“Back to Sanctuary,” Rebecca replied. She turned to Danse, and MacCready wished his sight wasn’t obstructed when the pair looked at each other when she added that he could “think about _it_ there.”  His annoyance was back when he asked just what ‘it’ was and got shut down. There were no other questions from there, and they were on their way back home.

* * *

 

Days after they returned, MacCready was torn yet again. Danse had made a quick recovery, and after the doctors had cleared him to get back to normal duty, Rebecca had left his side and hadn’t gone back at all. There seemed to have some unspoken agreement between them to avoid each other at all costs. MacCready surprised himself by finding it strange. The entirety of Sanctuary seemed puzzled when the soldier wasn’t at their ‘fearless’ leader’s side half of the time they were there. She had been noticeably absent from the power armor workstation. He hadn’t gone to her house to ask about odd jobs around the town.

He hadn’t really minded, until he realized they were avoiding him nearly just as much. He had found some imaginary dirt on Danse’s power armor and pointed it out to him, and instead of glaring and calling out his lie, Danse had cleaned the spot. He had received a letter from Daisy that Duncan was getting even better, and he had told Rebecca, and she was clearly extremely happy, but there was something in her eyes where all the happiness didn’t reach them, and that hurt more than watching the kiss did.

MacCready had managed to deal with it in Sanctuary. However, that was hardly the case when they had to go into the field together.  Of course, a Settlement needed help the day that everyone else was busy. Preston was headed back to the Castle on business, Nick had an emergency back in Diamond City to tend to and Piper had gone with him to catch Public Occurrences up on other events that had gone on since the latest issue. Deacon had ‘business’, as did Cait. So it was the three of them or nothing.

It turned out when two people out of three were trying to avoid each other and the extra person, fighting got sloppy and dangerous.

A group of raiders had ambushed them, and the three sprang into action. Of course, it was limited action, because Danse and Rebecca were apparently going out of their respective ways to not stand too close or look at each other or provide direct cover fire for each other or do anything remotely helpful for each other at all. Which somehow ended in MacCready getting a laser blast to the shoulder. He wished that one of them would also get shot, or he would take another blast to the head for the sake of proving that avoidance was a terrible solution or him just being rid of it period. Of course, that could’ve just been his own bloodloss talking. Because a moment later, he got lightheaded, and realized that the bastard must’ve gotten an artery. He felt himself hit the floor, and instantly regretted wishing for death a few moments before. It had been a massive overstatement. In an almost comical twist of fate, Danse and Rebecca were still too focused on not looking in each others’ direction that they had completely missed him falling.

 

When he woke up what he assumed was hours later, he was in some abandoned shack and his shoulder was healed up. He heard rain outside first, and then Rebecca and Danse talking quietly. He strained to hear them. “

“- Ro- MacCready could’ve just died, because we were avoiding this! Us! _It_!” 

Rebecca.  Go figure. He wondered why he even bothered getting mad at her for a hypothetical when she was so nauseatingly angelic. Of course him getting hurt would’ve snapped some sense into her. He could focus on that bit instead of the private moment that he was an accidental audience to… _again._

“We need to tell him,” she continued.

“You do. I doubt he’d appreciate it coming from me.”

“I just…”

“I’ll leave.”

MacCready was surprised when the first thing that came to mind was ‘please’- until he felt bad about it. He was getting too attached to everyone.

“Don’t you dare. That needs to stop being your first solution. I don’t want to lose you either, Danse. That’s the fucking problem. God, I…” she scoffed. “I get shoved into a goddamn bunker, the world ends, I spend a couple of hundred years as a human popsicle, wake up to the world where people just decided I’m gonna be their savior, and I fall for two men- and it turns out I can’t live without either of them.”

MacCready wasn’t sure how to feel about that one, either. He hadn’t even thought about it from her point of view yet. It was a mess.

Even Danse was silent for a while. Then, quietly. “Could be worse. Could’ve spent what you thought was most of your life getting conditioned to hate something, then it turns out that you are one of those things.”

She laughed after another moment, and MacCready could tell that she had scooted closer to him from the light changing in the room. He cracked an eye open, and sure enough she had- head on his shoulder and all. Then, before he could stop himself, “Will you two just screw and get it over with, already?”

The other two tensed and looked back at him.  

Rebecca practically jumped to her feet and bolted to his side. She visibly stopped mid-step when she reached him, then sat down slowly. “Rob…”

“Saw you two kiss. Actually kinda appreciate that you’re being all careful about being around each other, but… you know the avoidance is getting old. And life-threatening.” He motioned at where his wound had been a matter of hours ago.

“We were gonna tell you,” Rebecca supplied.

Danse hummed sort of awkward agreement behind her.

“I know. Just got sick of waiting. Gotta say the whole ‘can’t live without both of you’ bit was nice. Good thing I know you can’t lie worth anything.”  

Rebecca nodded. “Yeah…”

 “Sounds like a plan,” MacCready agreed.

She smiled weakly.

The moment was interrupted when there was shouting in the distance.

Danse rose to his feet. He looked back at them. “Raiders. Coming fast,” he reported before he hopped  out of the trailer, raised his gun and ducked out of sight.

MacCready almost laughed. At least the bastard sounded apologetic. He looked back at Rebecca. “Every single time, huh?”

“What we get for being the good guys,” Rebecca countered. “Can you manage, or do you wanna sit this one out?”

“What, and have you two go kick ass then happen to kiss again?”

“Not funny.”

“You deserve it,” MacCready countered, but kept the delivery light.

She grimaced, then nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

He chuckled, then was surprised all over again when she leaned in to kiss him quickly.

“You know, just… for the record.”

“You’re a mess, you know that?”

“But I’m your mess.”

“Yeah, and Danse’s, apparently.”

She shot him a playful warning look before she helped him to his feet. Without another word she turned, got Righteous Authority from its resting spot behind them, and left the trailer.

MacCready shook his head, then got his own sniper rifle and went to join them. He knew that the talk that was oncoming was going to be a ride, but at least he got her first. Whether he got to keep her remained to be seen. The strange bit was that he was starting to wonder if losing her to Danse wasn’t as terrible as he first thought it would have been early on.

He was going to need a drink soon.


End file.
